


In here without you

by rainonpavement



Category: From Dusk Till Dawn: The Series
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Pre-Series
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-19
Updated: 2014-04-19
Packaged: 2018-01-20 00:45:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,227
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1490461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rainonpavement/pseuds/rainonpavement
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Seth is stuck in prison and Richie is, well, not.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In here without you

He guesses it's because of the guys across the hall that it happens- that he dares letting it happen.

It's late afternoon, weather outside scorching and thick, but the cells with looming, steady, stone walls echo with chilly air.  
Seth suffocates after a short while in the sun, around the men thrown in here with him, and frankly he's quite surprised not more of them feel the same way.

Hell, the block is almost completely empty. _Maybe there's a big fight going on_ , he ponders, head resting on his arms, eyes locked on the cracking paint on the ceiling.  
His hands itch with boredom, with irritation he'd love to let out, but he has to focus. Has to get his shit together and keep focusing on that day not too far away ( _only two more years_ , his head reminds him). He has to stay calm.

It's hard though, when you've felt like top of the world before being in here, when the world was yours and you could make anyone listen with harsh words and a gun.  
Suddenly he's in this place, and fuck, one wrong word and you're staying much longer than planned, a black eye and you're dead. If they catch you doing it, that is.

It irks him, especially when he could take most of them down without blinking. Well a bit of blinking, perhaps, he corrects himself, stretching his left leg, pain still resting there. Not his fucking fault the guy had cheated, but damn if it wasn't up to Seth to stand up for himself.  
Or he'd be that gullible guy, and he'd prefer staying out of getting a reputation of any kind.  
They'd cleared it up before anyone saw, but of course, it'd been better if it hadn't happened at all.  
So card games went out the window.

Sports were even worse. _Like physical cards_ , Seth thought, an irritated puff of air slipping past his lips. It was like set up for fights, and maybe that's what the guards wanted: reasons to give the inmates another beating.

So Seth retreats to his cell, or to the make-do gym sometimes when his muscles won't relax, and he's feeling like the world keeps spinning without him.

A harsh breath shakes him out of his thoughts, and he tilt his head up to find it's owner. He can't help getting surprised with what he sees, can't help the upwards twitch his lip makes.  
So what, maybe the guy in the cell across the hall has a.. a friend.  
A close friend.

It rattles Seth a bit, and he looks nervously around, not really aware of what it is he's worried about, or looking for, for that matter.

And then the guy's friend swallows the guy down, smooth, all at once- his naked back on display for Seth, the guy's face tilted back and tense with pleasure.

And shit, Seth misses Richie. Not only his dick, because yeah, his brother's got a nice dick, but he misses his brother's smile, his clever eyes. The way he leans into Seth's touch, the way _he_ touches Seth.  
He doesn't even notice his hand travelling down to his pants, isn't aware of it until he lets out a moan of his own, accompanied with a squeeze on his dick.

He misses his brother's voice, his presence, and Seth feels a bang of pain in his stomach, right in there with lust and irritation, all boiling hot. _Only two years_ , he thinks to himself, lips a thin line across his face.

His eyes are closed, and he can barely hear the couple across from him anymore, not over his own breaths, not over the groaning of his bed.  
He doesn't need to either, because behind closed lids, Richie's there. Glasses low on his nose and a brilliant smile. Seth can almost hear him, hear his chuckle, the way he clears his throat, how he sighs.

It pulls at Seth, the yearning, painful at first, but he yanks his pants down, focuses instead on the pleasure when he gets a hand around himself.  
" _Shit_ ", he breathes, air cold on his flesh, pictures of his brother in his mind.

His body aches for it, fingers and legs itching for the rush of his brother's company, how they work together, fuck together.  
Preferably how they fuck after a job together.

Seth knows how the adrenaline affects him, the good kind anyway: the bad makes him calculating and ruthless, but shit, after a good job it makes his body tingle.  
And around his brother, he can't hold that back, can't control it like he could around other people until he was out of their space.

And he misses that now, even though Richie's laugh would always make him blush, even though his brother would tease him for his desperation, his trembling hands.

But when Seth feels good, he _wants_ , and he wants his brother.  
And it's been too damn long.

The cell's air is not chilly anymore around him, but rather as suffocating as the burning sunlight outside, and he gasps under the heat.

When he looks down, his dick stands shining in the soft light, precome pulsing slowly at the tip.

"So wet as always, brother," he hears Richie, and Seth humps his hand. _For you_ , he thinks, thumbing the tip roughly, imagining Richie's hands there.

The couple seems pleased as well, because now he can hear the wet slap of skin on skin, and he can't help the way his body tenses at that, the way it rises slightly from the sheets, the way images of him and Richie dances in the dark of his closed eyes.

"Shit, Richie," he hisses, other hand coming up to his chest, pushing up his tank top, fingers shaking.  
It's been long since he's been this riled up, had this twisting feeling in his veins, when it wasn't after a job.  
Memories flock in his head: Richie's slyly smiling up at him, hair ruffled and glasses clumsily tilted to one side. Shit, and his own hands on his brother's chest, fingers grabbing the ruffled white shirt there.

"That's right, baby boy," his brother had whispered, breathless and tensed under Seth's trembling legs. And Seth had smiled then, happy to see his brother come apart under him, happy to have finished his job, happy with a dick in his ass and not just his own fingers in a cell in fucktown nowhere.

"Yeah, baby," Richie praised, "taking me so good, little brother, so eager for me, yeah?" and Seth nods, head turned into his pillow, lip tightly pressed between his teeth.

"Always," he whispers, hand speeding up, toes curling, pointing towards the couple on the other side of the bars.

His cock is slick now, and he slips, looses his grip as he hurries, his other hand crunching the sheets under him.

And he imagines Richie somewhere, anywhere, out there, in his own bed thinking of Seth, and shit, that's it, come hitting his chest, lip splitting under the pressure.  
He doesn't even know if he managed to keep quiet, but when the thumping in his ears has slowed down, the block is still calm, his neighbors still going at it.

Seth breathes heavily, looking down as his painted chest, and musters a thick sigh.

 _Only two more years_ , he repeats to himself. _Two fucking years._


End file.
